The Wild Dogs
by AbleAcorn
Summary: Many people toy with the idea of packing a bag and going on the road. What happens when your options are to have the whole community's wrath on yourself, or to travel towards the unknown? OC character


Chapter 1

 _Author's Note: This is my first fanfiction in a while, and my first fanfiction with an original character. I have a general idea for the story, but no specific amount of chapters in mind yet. Updates will hopefully be once every two weeks. Any criticism, comments etc. more than welcome!_

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"Your ticket please, miss?"

River held out the sliver of colourful cardboard for one of the exhausted looking ticket inspectors. With a blue stamp on her ticket and her arm clutched protectively around a large duffel bag, River walked down a narrow corridor with passengers on all sides, everyone moving forward at a slow pace. The corridor started broadening, and then opened up into a proper room. They had stepped inside St. Connector, the only ship to sail between Old Spring and the mainland.

Even though the main lobby seemed enormous enough to house a whole town of people, it was crammed full. There were winding queues to all the available info desks, families walking around aimlessly, groups gathered around signs displaying the deck plans, and finally people who seemed to weave through it all like it was part of their daily routine. River herself stood by a wall inspecting her ticket more closely. Not that she needed a reminder about her cabin number. She had spent the previous night unable to sleep, learning the information on the ticket by heart.

For a moment River marveled at how soft the dark maroon carpet felt, even through her sturdy hiking boots. She knew that standing there with the duffel bag strap digging into her shoulder uncomfortably would get her nowhere, so eventually River lifted her gaze and gave the lobby a more searching look. There were brass numbers on the walls near all the staircases, indicating which way certain groups of cabins were. With as brisk a pace as she could muster in the cramped lobby and the heavy bag slowing her down, River made her way towards one of the staircases. The numbers did not make complete sense to her, but she was bound to stumble across the right part of the ship, even if by accident.

Having lived her whole life in Old Spring, River had come across countless tourists. All the stories she had heard about the ship seemed bleak now that she was able to witness it herself. The dense carpet muffled her footsteps even on the stairs, and the paneled walls seemed to swallow all the noise as River descended further down. If the lobby upstairs had been impressive in size, the corridors just a few decks down were the polar opposite. Narrow and seemingly endless, there were doors on either side, some open with people getting settled in their cabins. Occasionally a corridor crossed the one she was walking, forming a maze of maroon carpet and teal teal doors.

In one of these intersections she almost bumped into a rattling cart full of mops, washing liquids, rags and paper towels.

"Sorry." A short apology came from the tall woman who had her hair in a tight bun and hands covered in thick, yellow gloves.

"It's quite alright… Could you tell me where room 503 is?" she asked hesitantly, heaving her bag up on her shoulder. It dug back into her skin instantly.

"All the way down this corridor, past the pool. By a staircase." Her reply came in a flash.

River had no time to properly thank the woman before she had already continued, her quick steps quiet on the carpet, but the cart still shaking loudly. River could not help but be impressed by what she had said however. They were on a boat, and it had a pool! It seemed a little over the top.

With the woman's instructions River did manage to find her way to the cabin however, and even spotted the door that had big letters saying 'pool and sauna' on it. She had never been to an indoor pool, or a constructed pool to begin with. She had learned to swim by the sea.

The cabin doors had no place for a traditional key. Instead there was a narrow slot where the keyhole should have been. She took out her ticket, inspecting it briefly. On third attempt, a small light on the door flashed green instead of red. She could push the door open and finally step inside.

At first glance, River's expression fell. She could cross the living quarters from the door to the far side in three meagre steps, and where she had imagined a window, was an unimpressive painting of what she could only presume was the boat she was on. A heavy springed door right next to the entrance did not open into a closet like she had imagined, but a miniature cubicle crammed with an archaic shower and a toilet.

With a heavy sigh River pulled down the twin bed folded into the wall and set down her duffel bag and sat next to it on the wrinkled bed cover. She opened the dark green bag and was greeted by a disoriented, yawning canine face among the haphazardly folded and rolled clothes and other items. Despite the let down of her cabin, River's face lit up as her fingers stroked the silky smooth hair of her new companion.

Pokemon were something very natural to all people, much like breathing air or using water to clean oneself. Most pokemon, and in most places, at least. Old Spring had been secluded for centuries, and even in modern day boasted some impressive folklore and traditions that confused the mainlanders. Even though most of them were told to children as tales meant to teach right and wrong, or to give explanation to how everything came to be, there was one explicit story that still affected life on the island. Shivers ran down River's spine as she recalled the stories of a rogue Houndoom pack setting everything and everyone in their way on fire, all across the island.

Tourists and outsiders often scoffed and laughed, not understanding why people allowed such silly tales to scare them to this day. Yet any attempts to lift the ban on bringing Houndour or Houndoom on the island, even temporarily, had been promptly denied.

All that considered, it was more than a miracle the Houndour she had with her now was from the very island that shunned the entire species and wished for nothing more than to cease its existence. River could not even begin to comprehend how the pup had ended up hanging off a cliff facing the raging, open sea.

A muffled male voice, and almost instantaneous rumbling of the floor halted River's reminiscing. A rattling announcement came from the beat up looking grey little loudspeaker in the corner of the room, high up near the ceiling.

"Good afternoon passengers. Welcome aboard St. Connector, this is your captain. The time is 2pm, we are scheduled to leave the port in twelve minutes time. Restaurants on deck eight and shops on deck seven will be opening in about twenty minutes time. On behalf of the crew, I ask every passenger to please familiarise yourself with the emergency information available in each cabin."

As the announcement started rolling from the beginning, River placed her hand under her companion Houndour's stomach and lifted it up from the bag and onto the bed. She refused to admit that even the tiny creature intimidated her slightly as it sneezed out a puff of thin smoke.

"You're not like those others in the tales dad told us," she said stubbornly, willing the dark cautionary voice in her head to disappear.

They had not been taught much about these particular pokemon at school, but from what River knew, the Houndour seemed a bit small. It fit into her palms and didn't seem particularly aggressive. She found it difficult to believe something that preferred sleeping its day away in a bag would have been capable of destroying homes, forests, people and other pokemon.

While the puppy crawled its way around the crumpled bedsheets, River spotted a thin stack of leaflets on the table fixed to the wall. Emergency instructions and exits, read the one on top. She leafed through the instructions that seemed to be mostly in drawn pictures, depicting the correct way to wear a lifejacket, cartoon women and children boarding bright red lifeboats, and a big red cross banning pokemon battles on board.

The other two leaflets were infinitely more interesting. Even though most Old Spring residents considered St. Connector simply a means of transportation, it was a cruise ship, after all. Deck eight did not only have restaurants, but also entertainment ranging from pokemon contests to lotteries and magic shows, and even a few informative lectures. The shops just one deck below the restaurants seemed to offer general items such as treats, beverages and tourist trinkets, but also some specifics such as exclusive poke balls and clothing.

Rumbling of the engine deep underneath them made River's stomach rumble almost as if in sympathy. Or it could be the fact that she had been so focused on getting on the ship without raising the suspicions of anyone she knew, that she had had no time to focus on lunch.

"What do you say, buddy, should we check the restaurants? You must be getting hungry too."

Restaurants had barely opened their doors, yet most of them seemed to have queues formed by the entrance already. Clearly River was not the only one who had foregone lunch: people in suits were seated in the steakhouse, small children were running into the play area of a burger place, and there was a group boasting loudly about their fishing achievements while ordering beer. Eventually deciding that she would stick out least in a small, relaxed café, River stepped into the line and gazed up at the menu. As good as the 'supreme Bayleef-grown jalapeño salad with pine nuts' sounded, River could not help but think she did not want to pay so much for something she could have whipped up at home. Her light brown coin pouch was full and heavy now, but it needed to last until she found a way to make more.

River shuffled uncomfortably on her feet when thinking of work. Mr. Edgar would have to find someone else to help him with the Lillipup and Growlithe training. Not to mention her family was bound to have some loud arguments over which of River's siblings were to help in the farm now that she was gone. How long would it take for them to stop worrying about her and start arguing? A day, maybe a week? Would they search for her?

"Good afternoon, what would you like, miss?"

The words made her jump a little, the heavy pocket of her hoodie bouncing. Houndour stuck its head out from the side of it as the cashier watched. She was leaning towards the stack of coffee cups like anticipating River's order, impatient to move on to serving the next customer.

"Yes, hello. I'll take the Bayleef-grown jalopeño salad, and a big papaya juice," River's eyes dropped to the paper bags on display under the glass case, "and one small bag of fire treats, please."

Money bag a few coins lighter, but a heavy tray full of mouth watering food with her, River set off to find a seat. The café was considerably less packed than the other neighbouring restaurants were. She seated herself in a small booth. No one batted an eye when she lifted Houndour out of the snug pocket of her hoodie: people from the mainland would see it as just another pet pokemon.

The paper bag of fire treats rustled gently as River pulled it open, and a couple of dark brown pieces of kibble rolled onto the tray. Whether it was the noise or the scent, the treats had attracted Houndour's attention. One uncoordinated, wobbly paw was reached towards the table as it balanced on River's lap.

"Told you it would be snack time. I bet these are tastier than the general kibble and scraps you were eating at home too." Previously the pup had proved to be quite a picky eater. Even now, despite its ears and tail perking up, it chewed and nibbled on the one piece slowly. Then again, when the chunk of food was the same size as one of Houndour's black paws, it was no wonder.

For a moment they sat in relative silence. The crisp salad slowly calmed down her rumbling stomach and while Houndour had gnawed a great deal of the food into tiny crumbs on her lap, it still seemed satisfied.

"Excuse me, is this chair free?" an easy going male voice, suddenly standing out from the murmur of voices in the background.

"Yes, of course."

It was not until River had already blurted out the words that she actually paid attention to the stranger. Thud of a heavy backpack on the floor, followed by scraping of chair legs as the man sat down. A chunky, expensive looking camera hung from around his neck, and as he held out his hand, she saw a ranger bracelet wrapped around the thick wrist.

The man had noticed her gaze. "Sweet, ain't they? Just little trinkets, of course. Gotta have a souvenir, don't think anyone would want to visit twice, do you think?"

"I live there," River said. Her voice was icy.

"Oh, you do? I didn't mean, of course, adorable little place. Lots o' good stuff there," the man chuckled. One big hand patted the camera affectionately.

River stabbed the last remnants of her salad unnecessarily hard, and Houndour had fallen asleep on her lap with the treat still halfway in its mouth. She didn't speak, but the silence didn't last long.

"What's your name? I'm William," the man said.

"River. And no, I don't have siblings named Lake, Stream, Sea, or Waterfall," she said, her sharp tongue not helping the first impressions. William only laughed however, the same abrupt chuckle as before, and kept talking.

"I see. I'm a photographer," William patted his camera again, "Came to Old Spring to take pictures of the Old Tavern, for City Weekly. Of course, then I found out the ship back don't leave till a week later! Got some nice pictures though, I sure did. Places you probably not seen in your life!" William winked at her.

Highly doubt that, River thought. She smiled tightly and put her fork down with a clatter.

"Ah thank you, thank you!" William exclaimed as a waitress brought a tall, steaming cup of coffee to the table for him. He sipped from the drink, grimacing right afterwards, "always burn my mouth on these damn things, always."

River moved the small canine on her lap into a better position. The loose chunk of food fell to the floor. Even though it stirred, Houndour did not wake up even as River started to pet its small body slowly.

"Your first pokemon, eh?" William sounded excited. "He's a little small, ain't he? How'd you manage to get one away from its mother so young?"

"I didn't take him from his mother! I found him," River said. This didn't seem to alert William's suspicions, so River could only presume he was unfamiliar with the island-wide ban of the species. Then again, most outsiders were, unless they owned one themselves and found the hard way they were required to leave it on the ship.

"What's City Weekly?" she asked. William did not seem to have a problem talking about himself, and this suited River perfectly. Until she was safely off the boat and on the mainland, she wanted to keep a low profile.

"You don't know? It's the number one most read magazine, my friend! They do outdoors and do-it-yourself content. Quite a fan myself, if I can say so. An honour to work for them, really. Turned me down twice, but they must have had someone with more skill look at my resume recently-"

River found that her gaze grew out of focus, eyes glassy as she looked at William and listened to him ramble on about City Weekly and his work. Talking to someone who knew more about the mainland would have been beneficial, but River was sure she could not stand another ten minutes around William. Or anyone, the missed sleep from previous night had her nodding already.

"It was really nice to talk to you!" she interrupted suddenly. Giving the bewildered looking William a brief smile, River stuffed the rest of the fire treats into her pocket. She gathered Houndour into her arms and weaved between the tables and out of the café.

10


End file.
